


you keep ending up in my shaking hands

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Drinking, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan Miller was in love with a boy from Agro Station before they sent him to the ground to die. But Miller survived, and he survived, and he kept surviving. He didn't dare think that his boyfriend from the farm station might have survived as well. </p><p>Or, a character study on why Nathan Miller is the way he is, and where he goes from there.</p><p>Miller x OC, Miller x Monty, 3x01 compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you keep ending up in my shaking hands

Miller hadn’t thought about Agro Station in months. It was easier that way.

Once upon a time when everyone lived in the stars and things were simple, there was a boy. He was taller than Miller and kinder than Miller and had a smile that made Miller’s stomach twist and turn. His name was Briar and he had eyes that were as blue as the oceans of earth that Miller could see from his bedroom window. His hands were calloused from his work with the farms and his arms were strong from the heavy labor.

He used to tease Miller all the time. “You’re the one training to be a guard,” Briar would say. “But I could flip you over in a second.”

“Prove it,” Miller would challenge. And Briar would, pinning Miller down against his bed before kissing him too gently for a boy as sharp as Miller.

He was enough to make Miller’s edges feel smooth. “You don’t have to do what your dad wants,” Briar had told him a million times. “If being a guard isn’t what you want to do, then don’t. You’re in Alpha Station – you can do anything you want, Nate.” And that might’ve been true. Briar certainly made him _feel_ like he could do anything.

And when he found out Miller had started stealing, he warned him against it immediately. “No one’s going to notice a few missing things,” Miller had told him. It was never anything substantial. An old mug on one of the shelves, a shirt from the repurpose room.

“Your dad’s _chief guard_ ,” Briar would murmur. In the end it wasn’t the little things that Miller was caught stealing, it was a set of plans from the Chancellor’s files that he didn’t even get a chance to look at before they were locking him up. “And I don’t want you locked up in the Sky Box, okay? It’s way too far a walk to make every day to see you. Alpha’s far enough as it is.”

No, thinking about Agro Station made Miller’s stomach hurt.

It was the only thing that got him through it at first. It was the dream. Not Agro Station specially, he supposed, but just Briar who _lived_ in Agro Station. Who would take Miller into the farms and laugh as he attempted to do some sort of manual labor. Who would kiss his way down Miller’s body and make him forget that anything was wrong absolutely ever. Who loved him, and told him so every day as often as he could.

Even when he was thrown in the Sky Box. “You’re a damn idiot,” Briar had said during one meeting. “You’ve got another month until you’re 18 and they look at your case again. And it scares me every day that they could choose to float you. But I _do_ love you.”

And Miller would say it back. Not as often. He was more cautious than Briar, who loved with everything and had a heart as gold as his hair.

They didn’t get to say goodbye before Miller was thrown onto the dropship.

* * *

 

Being on the ground was amazing. _Briar would love it here_ , Miller remembered thinking. _Fresh air and real dirt and radioactive plants_. But with being on the ground came the Grounders. And when Miller worried, he thought of Briar. And when Miller missed home, he thought of Briar. And when Miller fought like he was a soldier instead of a 18-year-old boy, using the tricks his father had taught him, he thought of Briar. Almost always he was thinking of the boy he’d probably never see again.

He made himself Bellamy’s best man, best fighter, best friend. That was what he focused on. Keeping himself and his people, the other delinquents, alive. Because if he didn’t think about that he was thinking about Briar and that never ended well.

And then Miller wasn’t fighting Grounders, but he was still fighting.

Mount Weather scooped them up and fed them and gave them nice clothes and a place to sleep. And still, even with a warm blanket, Miller thought of Briar. Of the Ark. Of being anywhere but on the ground. It only got worse when Mount Weather started drilling into them to get their bone marrow.

Somewhere in the middle of _that_ hell, in between Clarke’s disappearance and the discovery that she was still alive outside the wall, between sneaking around and trying to find a way to get out of the mountain, Miller stopped thinking of Briar so much.

Maybe it was because his mind was distracted with staying alive. With fighting a new enemy. But part of it was because of Monty, and Miller absolutely hated it.

Monty was brilliant. A little younger than Miller but infinitely smarter. A fucking prodigy when it came to engineering, hacking, any sort of technology. His hands weren’t large and rough like Briar’s, but his mind was sharp and his wit was sharper.

It wasn’t until one night after Miller’s thievery resurfaced did he realize how screwed he was.

“My dad was chief guard,” Miller told Monty. They’d just learned that Alpha Station was on the ground, that maybe there were more. “He sure loved having a thief for a kid,” he muttered.

“Hey,” Monty nudged him and shook his head. “You’re a _great_ thief.”

It was the first time Miller had laughed in weeks. It was the first time Miller _didn’t_ think of Briar.

* * *

 

He realized it later, how Monty made him feel. With a small smile and gentle words, still too gentle than Miller deserved, he’d been creeping into Miller’s mind for some time now. And that made Miller feel guilty. Because Briar was excellent. He was absolutely excellent and there was no denying it and Miller loved him. But Monty was here, and Briar was somewhere else. And even when Monty was _taken_ Miller couldn’t stop thinking about him, worrying about him, hoping that they didn’t lose him too. The overwhelming relief that flooded Miller when Monty returned, alive but injured from some experimental lab, said enough on its own.

It wasn’t until after the capture of Mount Weather did Miller swear off thinking about Agro Station at all.

With too many of their people gone, dead, discarded like trash down a chute and so many others injured, there were new things to worry about. And after a conversation with his dad who confirmed they weren’t sure if any other stations had survived, Miller couldn’t bear to think about it.

“Factory Station and Tesla Station were both found,” his dad had said on their walk. “But there were no survivors.”

So the odds of Briar being alive. Being on earth. They were slim. Slim to none. And Miller had been through too much to even hope for it. So he pushed it out of his mind.

Agro Station and Briar were both gone. He had to believe that or he would go insane. So that was what he believed. He didn’t talk about it and he didn’t think about it and he didn’t question it. They were gone, gone, gone. That’s what happened when something shitty happened, Miller stopped thinking about it. He’d been doing it for years, ever since he was a kid and had no choice.

Miller focused on training. Not because it was what his dad wanted anymore but because it was what Miller wanted. “I’m already a good shot,” he said to Bellamy one afternoon. “And good at hand-to-hand. A little more training wouldn’t hurt.” Because they needed guards now, and Miller wanted to keep alive whoever they had left alive.

“You’re my right hand,” Bellamy had shot back with a smile. “Glad you’re sticking around.”

And along with immersing himself in Bellamy’s life, Miller found himself immersed in Monty’s as well. Same with Jasper and Raven, but mostly Monty. Because Raven was healing on her own (she had a thing for doing things alone, which Miller understood) and Jasper was just a fucking mental case, Miller and Monty ended up side by side more often than not. Miller sat with him in the lab as he worked on things Miller couldn’t even hope to understand.

He liked to listen to him talk. About physics, about engineering, about anything. Monty was broken in his own way (but weren’t they all?) and dealt with it by working. It wasn’t until one day that Monty was needed elsewhere did Miller end up in the lab with just Raven and Bellamy.

“What are these, anyway?” Miller asked, holding up schematics and trying to read them. He liked being with his friends despite his struggle to understand everything they talked about.

Bellamy smiled a little. “I don’t understand them either,” he admitted when Miller looked up.

“They’re trackers,” Raven answered. “We haven’t found the other stations.” Miller ignored the thought that was pushing at the edge of his mind. “This can hopefully pick up signals so we can find the rest of our people.”

“Factory and Tesla were found,” Miller reminded them. “Destroyed.”

“But Alpha and Mecha both landed with minor casualties,” Bellamy said. “And it’s better to assume that other Stations did the same.” Miller looked back at the schematics as Bellamy talked. “If our people are out there we need them. Both for numbers, but also because they’re our _people_ , you know? Besides that, they have knowledge of things people from Mecha and Alpha and a dropship of criminal teenagers don’t.”

Miller smirked. “You want their brains.”

“Partly.”

“Finding Hydra Station would be a blessing,” Raven muttered before throwing down a screwdriver. “The sooner we can get a working water system the better for all of us. But some people remember seeing pieces breaking off—say it exploded while trying to get down here.”

“Agro’d be nice too,” Bellamy added. “With winter coming sooner rather than later it’ll be good to have professionals getting the most out of our harvest.”

The thought pushed from Miller’s mind to his mouth. “My boyfriend’s from there,” he said. He didn’t mean to. Both Raven and Bellamy turned to look at him. Bellamy had an arched eyebrow and Raven looked amused. “Was from there,” Miller corrected bitterly.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Raven said. “You don’t talk about him.”

“You don’t talk about what happened with you and Wick,” Miller threw back.

“Fuck off, Miller. That’s different.”

“And he’s probably dead anyway,” Miller carried on. “It’s all I can stomach. I just hope it was fast.” He couldn’t imagine a crash landing that left Briar broken and bruised until his body succumbed to his wounds. Or worse, somehow, surviving just to be killed by the elements, by Grounders. Slow and torturous.

“Hey, you don’t know that,” Bellamy said. “He could still be out there. Hell, Agro probably has the best chance of surviving on their own anyway. They’re _farmers_.”

“Probably thrilled to have real ground to actually work with,” Raven muttered, still clearly peeved at Miller’s comment. She picked up her screwdriver again and continued to tinker, mumbling something that sounded angry under her breath.

“Just don’t lose hope,” Bellamy told him. “He could still be out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Miller said. He didn’t even want to think about it. He was angry with himself that he’d let it slip. Because Briar was gone, gone, gone and he’d already come to terms with it. Bellamy made a face but Miller shot him a look. “I’m serious, Bellamy,” Miller snapped. “You asked me not to talk about Clarke, so I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead. Okay? So just drop it.”

Bellamy looked taken aback at the mention of Clarke but still he nodded his head. “Sure,” he said.

* * *

 

Believing that Briar was dead, it was just so he could handle existing. Monty was something else entirely, someone who started filling in the cracks in Miller with light probably without even meaning to.

“You look better with a beard,” Monty said one afternoon, reaching out and running his fingers across the smooth skin of Miller’s cheeks. Miller felt his face go hot. He shaved it after Mount Weather, needing something fresh, needing to be able to breathe again, and had done so every day since. Miller turned away, out of Monty’s grasp, and the boy smiled at him. “More professional.”

“I’m not trying to be professional.”

“Well, whatever. I vote for the beard.”

Miller stopped shaving the next day.

And Monty would say things that made Miller’s stomach flip. Like, “You lick your lips all the time, you know that?” Miller had an urge to lick them then but didn’t. Instead he clenched the teeth together. “And you literally always do it before you smile. Which, by the way, isn’t enough.”

Miller wasn’t a prodigy like Monty was but he could be quick on his feet. “You, who doesn’t even make moonshine anymore, have no right to talk to me about not _smiling_ enough.” Monty frowned then. “I never smiled _before_. I’m consistent.”

“You’re full of it,” Monty countered. But it was clear his frown had been forced as a smile was creeping onto his face. “I bet I can get you to smile.” Miller scoffed, and Monty’s smile widened. “Serious. I’m serious, Nate.” Miller’s heart lurched in his chest. _Nate_. There were very few people who ever called him that. He felt less like smiling than ever now. “What?” Monty said, as though he noticed it. “What’d I say?”

“Nothing,” Miller said quickly. “Forget it.”

But Monty _did_ try to get him to smile. It was a daily effort of over-the-top compliments that worked over Miller’s edges slowly but surely and jokes about Grounders that weren’t even funny. Monty put a lot of effort into it and one day he finally cracked. It was more because Monty caught him off-guard than anything, but whatever.

It was after a session of training and Miller was pressing a towel to his face to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He turned to find Monty standing there with his mouth open looking… awed.

“ _What_?” Miller demanded.

“Do you _always_ spar shirtless at guard training? Because if so, I might have to become a guard.” Miller grinned and snorted and quickly swung his hand up to cover his mouth. Monty’s eyes widened and he pointed at him. “Aha!” Miller shook his head but Monty was grinning, pointing at him. “Told you I could do it! Also—seriously though. You should sell tickets for people to watch. I’d buy one.”

Miller couldn’t shake the smile off of his face for a full day after that, no matter how damn hard he tried.

And Monty, there were times that he would retreat into his own head. Miller noticed it more than others and it was in those moments that _he_ was trying to get Monty to smile. It usually worked, because even a small smile from Monty meant progress. That he was still there, just toned down.

“You’re not funny, you know,” Monty told him one night after Miller had successfully managed to get him to smile. Miller scoffed. “You’re not.”

“I can always get you to smile.”

“No correlation.” Miller scoffed again, and Monty’s smile widened. “I just think you’re cute. Especially when you think you’re funny considering you really _aren’t_.” Miller tried to scoff then but instead a smile sprung to his face. “ _Especially_ when you smile,” Monty added. Miller laughed, shaking his head and trying to shake the smile from his face like always. But it just wasn’t going anywhere.

Soon Monty was opening himself up to Miller, talking about more than just engineering. He confided in him. He talked about how his hand in Mount Weather was more than many knew, that it haunted him every day. He talked about Jasper, how he was losing his best friend, how Jasper couldn’t even look at him anymore. He talked to him about nightmares. About regret. About his parents, how they might be dead. About his fears.

After a particularly long night out by the fire Miller felt his own chest aching at the words Monty was saying.

“I wish I knew how to help you,” Miller exhaled.

Monty pulled his gaze from the flames leaping before him and looked at Miller. He reached out and found Miller’s hand, squeezing once. “You do help, Nate,” Monty said softly. “You listen.”

* * *

 

It had been two months since Mount Weather and Nathan Miller was starting to feel like a new person. A person without cracks. A person who had a future on earth and was looking forward to it. Especially if it involved Monty Green, which felt more and more possible with each passing day. It scared him, but it was definitely possible.

Bellamy definitely noticed it. And unlike pretending everything was okay, that Agro Station had landed safely, he supported Miller with a smile.

“Everyone deserves to be happy after what we’ve been through,” Bellamy told him one day after following his gaze to Monty who was sitting across the room with Raven. “You should go for it.” Bellamy had been pretty optimistic in most things ever since he started dating Gina, Raven’s friend from the Ark. But Miller rolled his eyes, and Bellamy nudged him with his elbow. “I’m serious,” Bellamy encouraged him.

“I know.” Miller shrugged. “I’ll get there.”

And every day it got easier. Smiles crept onto Miller’s face when he was happy and it wasn’t a rare sight to see him smiling anymore. His sarcasm was more lethal than ever but Monty said he found it endearing.

“Endearing?” Miller echoed after Monty said it.

“Mm-hm.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Monty said, “It’s cute you’re still trying to pretend you’re all rough and tough and not a big softie.” Bellamy snorted at that and Raven tipped her head back in a laugh and Miller frowned. Monty shrugged. Later when they were walking back to their tents, Monty and Miller were walking slower than usual. “I meant it, you know. When I said I think you’re a softie.”

“You normally mean most things you say,” Miller murmured back.

“Hiding under this hard exterior,” Monty continued. “Pretending like you don’t have feelings.” Miller turned his head as they walked and Monty shrugged another time. Miller didn’t pretend like he didn’t have feelings. And it wasn’t that he had a secret heart of gold. Monty just saw the best in him, got the most smiles out of him. “I talk about my life all the time, Nate,” Monty said. “You _don’t_.” Miller looked away. Their feet were dragging, but Miller wanted to walk faster. “And I think it’s because you’ve been through some crap—I mean we all have. And just—I don’t know. Talking about it, being _soft_ , it’s not a bad thing.”

Miller was staring at the ground. “Guess I’m just waiting for shit to go south again,” he muttered.

“You can’t live like that.”

“It’s gotten me this far.”

Monty sighed, shoving his hands into his back pockets. They were quiet for a few paces before Monty asked, “Do you really think that?” Miller turned to look at him again. “That it’s just going to get bad again?”

Miller sighed, too. “I don’t want to,” he admitted. Because he didn’t. He wanted this future, living in Arkadia, working as a guard, flirting with Monty. He didn’t want another war. Another fight. He was tired of fighting. He wanted the peace. He wanted the smiles. “But it’s always one thing after another.” Miller shrugged, only lifting one of his shoulders. “It’s probably a defense mechanism.”

Monty’s face lit up with a smile then. “Probably,” he agreed. See? Miller could be funny. Monty nudged Miller with his elbow as they paused outside Monty’s tent. “You do know that you can talk to me though,” Monty said quietly. “Right?”

“Yeah, Monty,” Miller said with a nod. “I know I can talk to you.”

Monty smiled again. “You should take advantage of that one of these days,” he said. Before Miller could laugh, or roll his eyes, or something, Monty strode into his tent and called out _goodnight_ over his shoulder.

* * *

 

A few days later Bellamy herded them all onto a jeep that Raven had fixed up for a trip into Sector 7. It was on the edge of Ice Nation territory and it was important to Bellamy that they take every precaution – but he also seemed to know that the delinquents (and Raven) needed a breath of fresh air every once in a while without the adults breathing down their neck. God, it was moments like that in the car that earth was exactly like Miller expected it to be.

Music was blasting and Bellamy was smiling and looking between Monty and Miller as though he was waiting for something to happen and Jasper stood with his hands up and out of the roof and cheering as they drove. Monty was by Miller’s side and things felt fresh. They felt _right_.

Until they weren’t.

It all happened so fast that Miller wasn’t even sure what was going on. _Farm Station. Agro Station_.

“After—after four months?” he forced out. It could’ve been false—a bad reading. But Raven and Monty didn’t make junk. They’d found the beacon from Agro Station. Miller’s hands felt clammy and his throat felt thick. The one thought that had kept him grounded all this time, that Agro Station was gone, was proving to be false. Agro Station wasn’t gone. Agro Station had survived. “How?”

And then Bellamy was talking again. About going after the beacon. Guilt and fear washed over Miller in waves and he clenched his teeth. “The Chancellor’s not from Farm Station. Monty is.” Bellamy looked toward Miller, his eyes different than they were before. “So is Miller’s boyfriend.”

 _Briar could still be alive_.

Things were happening so fast that Miller wasn’t sure he was really awake. It felt like some sort of dream watching the Grounders with white paint on their faces emerging from the woods, watching them hold a knife to Jasper’s throat, firing his gun and taking someone out. And then Bellamy was shouting, ordering different people to go different places because Kane was in Sector 4. Miller was being forced onto a horse and Monty was climbing into the jeep.

It wasn’t until they were back at Arkadia did Miller have time to think. The Grounders had the beacon from Agro Station but that had to have meant it survived, somehow. Agro Station had landed enough that the beacon was salvageable. That meant there could be survivors. That meant Briar could be there, just past the woods in Sector 7.

Miller paced his tent. He felt relief. He felt guilt. He felt fear. All of them fought against one another trying to be the dominant feeling. For the first time since Mount Weather he _hoped_ that Briar was still alive. The feeling came to him like a desperate gasp for air, like Miller had spent the past three months since the mountain not actually breathing. He could still be there. A boy that Miller loved could be out there, loving him too. He’d refused the thought for so long, that Briar was alive. It was impossible. Impossible.

But clearly not impossible.

The guilt was next, and the fear. Because while Miller would always love Briar, there was _Monty_. And Miller couldn’t deny what he felt for Monty. Not at all. In some ways, whatever _almost_ he had with Monty felt stronger than whatever _used to_ he had with Briar simply because Monty had been here while Briar hadn’t. Not that that was anyone’s fault but Miller’s, for getting himself locked up in the Sky Box.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until _days_ later that Monty and Bellamy finally returned. They were being quiet, secretive, and Miller wasn’t sure why until Bellamy pulled him aside.

“What I’m about to tell you can’t be shared,” Bellamy muttered. Miller nodded silently. “Clarke’s back.” Miller’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead. “She’s in medical—no one can know that she’s here. Do you understand?”

It turned out Miller was right, that things were just waiting to go south. Clarke was being hunted. They brought her to get her looked at medically and to talk to Lincoln, but no one could know. If the Ice Nation found out where she was there would be war, worse than what was already brewing. Miller wanted to see her – he respected Clarke and was glad that she was okay, that she was still alive after months on her own. But he understood Bellamy too. That the situation was delicate and Clarke was heading out as soon as she was cleared and things were settled.

“She probably wouldn’t have come,” Bellamy muttered, a sourness to his voice that Miller understood. “But it was too dangerous out there for her. And I think Kane wanted Abby to _see_ her, you know?”

Miller nodded. “How are _you_?” he asked.

Bellamy’s eyebrows came together. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Bellamy,” Miller murmured. “Are you okay?”

“Clarke’s alive,” Bellamy said. “That’s all—that’s all that matters right now.” With another terse nod Bellamy turned on his heel, but quickly he stopped. He turned back to Miller with his eyebrows still together. “Agro Station,” he said.

Miller’s stomach sank. He wasn’t sure what sort of news he was hoping for. “What about it?”

“We have Trikru protection from Indra to enter Ice Nation territory – the truce should hold,” Bellamy said. “I want you and Monty and Raven to look into it. Head out first thing in the morning. I’d go, but—”

“I get it,” Miller cut him off.

Bellamy hesitated. “You should talk to Monty,” he muttered. And then Bellamy did turn, leaving Miller with another bout of anxiety he wasn’t sure he knew how to handle.

It took him a little bit of time to _find_ Monty, but eventually he did. He was in Raven’s workshop alone, tinkering with some sort of device that Miller was sure he would never fully understand how it worked. It was what Monty did when he was upset, nervous, anxious. Miller understood that feeling. When Miller entered Monty looked up, and then immediately returned to what he was working on. Miller hung in the doorway.

“I didn’t know you were from Agro Station,” Miller finally said. It was something he would’ve remembered.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Monty tossed back. Miller licked his lips and looked to the floor, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t know what to say. Because this wasn’t _normal_. People didn’t die for three months only to return camped out in the middle of the woods. Dead boyfriends didn’t come back to life. When someone was gone, they were gone for good. Miller learned that at a young age. Miller scratched at his head. “I’m not surprised that you have nothing to say,” Monty murmured. “You never do.”

Miller still shook his head. “Monty,” he tried.

“You know I’m not—I’m not sure what’s worse. You knowing he was still alive, or hoping, but still flirting with me like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t care. Or if you assumed that he was dead. That you couldn’t even _hope_ he was still out there.”

“It’s not—you don’t understand,” Miller strained.

“You’re right,” Monty said. “I don’t.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. My parents are there. That’s what matters.”

“ _Monty_ ,” Miller tried again. Was it cheating, what he had with Monty? Their _almost_? They’d never kissed, though Miller had thought about it more often than not. They barely touched, but when they did it was electric. And did it count if Miller thought that his boyfriend was dead? “I never imagined that Briar—”

“ _Briar,_ ” Monty stopped him. “Briar _Howard_?”

Miller’s eyes fell shut as though he was in pain. God, he was. His entire body was aching. “You know him.” Everyone knew Briar. He was smart, he was strong, he was well-likable. And living in Agro Station would’ve meant he and Monty saw each other often. They could’ve been neighbors. Monty lowered whatever he was working on down to the workstation. Miller didn’t know what to say but he knew he had to talk. “I know it’s awful,” Miller said. His voice was thick and raspy. “To not have hope. But Monty, if I even considered he was still out there I would’ve _lost_ my _mind_.” He shook his head another time before finally opening his eyes to look at him. “I wasn’t hoping he was alive but I haven’t been hoping that he’s dead either. Both are—both options make me feel like shit.”

“If that were me out there,” Monty said, “and my boyfriend had assumed I was dead—”

“I didn’t _assume_!” Miller nearly snapped. “It was something I believed _with conviction_ , Monty! It was the only thing keeping me together! That Agro Station was gone.”

“And how do you feel now?” Monty challenged. “That you know it’s not?”

“I don’t _know.”_

“You’ve got to feel something, Miller.”

 _Miller_.

At the sound of his surname, the desperation in Monty’s voice sprinkled with sadness and anger, Miller wanted to collapse. Instead he took a deep breath and stood a little straighter. _This_ is why he didn’t have feelings, like Monty teased him so often. _This_ is why Miller didn’t open him up. Because emotions were messy and caused him and everyone around him too much pain.

“I’m glad you made it back okay,” Miller forced out. His voice was still rough and his eyes were burning. “We’re leaving at sunrise.” He turned on his heel then and sucked in another sharp breath before marching out of Raven’s lab without another word.

* * *

 

Miller didn’t sleep very well that night. He thought of all the things he hadn’t thought about in years. He thought of Clarke, of the Ice Nation, of Agro Station. It was true when he told Monty he didn’t know what he was feeling. Sure, there were feelings there, but Miller couldn’t place them. He couldn’t sort them out. In the end he decided to stop thinking altogether. If Briar was alive Miller could figure things out then. There was no point in speculating until he was sure Briar was there. Was breathing. Was alive.

That morning they climbed into the car, Raven driving with Monty in the seat beside her and Miller and Indra sat in the back with another one of her men.

They weren’t even half an hour into the ride when Raven turned to Monty. “Something happen I’m not aware of?” she asked. “Because this is one quiet car.”

“We’re headed into Ice Nation territory,” Miller muttered. “I think we have a pretty good reason.” Monty looked back then but only briefly, and then he was staring at the device in his hands again. Miller couldn’t do this. He hated the anticipation of it all. He hated the silence too, but faking a conversation wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.

They drove for a long time before Indra stopped them, saying they had to carry on by foot. Raven didn’t look too pleased but Miller and Monty both offered to help. She had chronic pain in her hip and walking wasn’t going to be great for her, but she did have a brace that helped a bit and some pain meds from Arkadia that she stashed away for situations like this. Bellamy would’ve demanded she stay in the car but Monty and Miller both knew this was important to her.

“How long, do you think?” Raven asked Indra.

“Hard to say,” Indra responded. “A few miles.”

“And if Azgeda stop us?” Monty asked.

“You’re with me,” Indra said with a sly smile.

So they walked. Again in silence. It took longer than expected with Raven but no one complained, and Miller was thankful for that. With every step they got a little closer. With every step they were on the verge of finding out the truth. His lungs felt like they were full of water and it wasn’t from the hike that they were making.

* * *

What felt like an eternity later they emerged in a clearing. The towering metal of Agro Station was spotted immediately, set up much like Camp Jaha had been and Arkadia still stood. There was a small gate surrounding it and someone shouting once they stood.

“We wait back here,” Indra said. “And will guide you back when you’ve returned.” Indra and her warrior slinked backwards into the shadows while people rushed forward, calling things out. Monty and Raven and Miller all stood with their hands up, waiting for the sound of gunfire. But there were no guns on Agro Station, no need for it.

“We come from Mecca Station,” Raven called to them. “And Alpha Station.” The air felt still. There were a bunch of people crowded around the gate then and Miller’s eyes were frantic, darting back and forth between each and every face to try and find the one he was looking for. _Wrong, wrong, not you, wrong_. “We traced your signal with this,” Raven said, pulling the device from Monty’s hand and holding it up.

“Where are the _Azgeda_ ,” someone shouted back. “They must know you’re here!”

“We have a truce,” Monty added. “For the moment.”

“Monty?” a feminine voice rang out. “Mon—Monty? That’s—that’s my son!”

“Monty Green?” Another voice chimed.

“They’re from the Ark!”

“Get them inside!”

“Monty! That’s my—Monty!”

“Mom?” Monty rushed forward, his face lighting up as he ran to the gate that was opening for the three of them. Monty started sprinting. “Mom!” He collided with a woman just inside the gate and there was sobbing, incoherent sounds that Miller couldn’t understand. He looked to Raven who winced slightly with pain from her hip but was smiling still. She tipped her head toward the gate and she and Miller slowly made their way forward. Monty was frantic, speaking quickly to his mom who was cradling his face between his cheeks. They’d slipped away from English back to their native tongue – languages had a way of surviving through families, both with tears in their eyes as they spoke.

Someone—what looked like a leader of sorts, tall and proud—pulled Raven aside and Miller followed. But his eyes were elsewhere. Searching, scanning, sweeping.

“Who’re you looking for, son?” the man asked.

Miller wrinkled his nose, turning back to him. “Briar—Briar Howard? The Howard family?” The man looked up at someone who was following them and made some sort of gesture meaning for Miller to follow him. He and Raven exchanged a nod before he followed the woman. “You know the Howards?” Miller asked as the woman led him to a sort of building.

“Yes, Hilary should be in here,” she said. _Hilary_. Briar’s mom. Miller’s heart leaped.

He sped past the woman and pushed into the building, and there she was. Briar’s mom was sitting at a table covered with vines that she was working with. She looked up as the metal door clanged open and her lips parted in surprise. “Nathan!” she gasped.

“Mrs. Howard,” he breathed. She leapt to her feet and crossed to him, holding open her arms to greet him in a hug. She was so familiar that Miller wanted to cry but instead he pulled her close. Even though they’d been on earth for a while she still smelled like the farm station and it was more than comforting.

“I heard—commotion outside, but I figured it was another Azgeda sighting. You all—the kids on the dropship, you survived?”

“Yeah, yes,” Miller nodded as they parted. She left her hands on his shoulders. It was good to see her and hear her voice but he wanted to know. He _needed_ to know. “Is Briar…?”

Hilary’s face fell. “Oh, Nathan…” she trailed off. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” Miller heard her words but didn’t process them. “Briar…” her eyes were getting wet, and still Miller wasn’t sure. He couldn’t… Briar _couldn’t_ … “He didn’t survive the landing,” Hilary said gently. “He’s buried in the back.”

Miller was still standing close to her. Hilary’s hands were still on his shoulders. “What do you…” Miller’s throat was thick. “What do you mean?” he tried.

“Nathan, Sweetheart,” she sighed. “Briar died. He’s gone.”

Miller wasn’t sure what happened next. He was shaking his head and saying something, and Hilary was talking too, but nothing was filtering. Everything sounded like static and it felt as though gravity was weighing down on his shoulders. His mind was racing but he wasn’t _thinking_ anything. There was nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Next thing he knew he was at a poorly marked grave on his knees, sucking in sharp breaths and trying to calm himself down. Hilary had been there at some point saying words that must’ve been comforting, explaining that he hadn’t suffered, holding Miller close, but she was gone now and it was better he was alone.

 _Boyfriends don’t come back from the dead_ , Miller reminded himself. He shouldn’t have expected otherwise. He never should have hoped.

That was what Monty didn’t understand, what Bellamy didn’t understand. That hope was a dangerous thing. That hope alone could kill someone. And Miller felt like he was dying.

He wasn’t sure how time passed so quickly. He knew he should find Raven, should talk to her with whoever she went off with, or even Monty, but he couldn’t move. His legs were asleep and it felt like Mount Weather had hooked him up and drained him after all. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder did he startle, and only then he realized the sky was beginning to change.

“Nate,” Monty murmured. Miller tensed up and blinked hard before reaching up and swatting at his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Miller shook his head but Monty lowered himself to the ground by his side. “He was really great,” Monty said.

“Just…” Miller trailed off, shrinking away from Monty’s hand. “Where’s Raven?”

“ _Nate_ ,” Monty tried.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

Monty looked confused. “What, your name?”

“We should go. Where’s Raven?” he asked again. He fumbled around for a minute trying to get himself back on his feet but it was hard. He’d been on the ground for so long. Monty pushed himself to his feet quickly to help him stand. “Quit it,” Miller snapped again. “I’m fine, now where—”

“You’re not _fine_ ,” Monty stopped him. Miller took a deep breath. “Nate, I’m—I’m sorry. For this, for yesterday, for—”

“I _knew_ ,” Miller cut him off tiredly. “I _knew_ , Monty.” He shook his head and stepped away, not knowing what to say or how to say it. Not knowing anything. “See that—that’s why I didn’t get my hopes up,” he said, gesturing to the grave marked with Briar’s name. “I was— _fuck_ I was fine thinking that he was dead!” His voice was getting louder. “But then you and—Bellamy, everyone, just—fuck.” Miller pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Fuck,” he said again.

It hurt so much more now than it would have.

It hurt so much that he could barely breathe.

He stalked away from Monty who quickly followed. “Raven’s giving them a walkie-talkie,” Monty told him, steering him in another direction than Miller was already headed. “She’s boosted the signal so we should be able to reach each other until we set up some sort of convey.” Miller clung to Monty’s words to keep him grounded. He had to think about this, not about Briar. Not about anything but the mission in front of him. Bellamy had sent him here for answers, to find their people, and that was what Miller had to do. He desperately tried swallowing the thought of Briar but he was stuck in Miller’s throat. “Nate,” Monty said again.

Monty pulled him then, tugging him toward him just forcefully enough that Miller couldn’t resists, and wrapped his arms around him. Miller tried gasping for air. His eyes were burning. Everything was burning.

Monty held him tightly and Miller knew that he was shaking. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t. He dropped his forehead to Monty’s shoulder and breathed, breathed. In and out. Monty was saying something else but Miller couldn’t hear him. _He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. He never got to see the ground. He never got to breathe the air. He’s dead._ Miller swallowed thickly. He didn’t have time for this now. He couldn’t do this now. After one more sharp breath he pulled back. Monty kept his hands on his shoulders and Miller nodded once, and then they went off to find Raven.

A few people were coming back with the three of them to Arkadia, Monty’s mom and some other people Miller didn’t know.

Again things happened like he was dreaming. The hike back to the car, the drive back to Arkadia. Miller was in the passenger seat this time so Monty could be by his mom and Raven kept trying to get more information out of Indra about Clarke and _Wanheda_ but Indra wasn’t budging. Both Monty and Raven kept shooting nervous, sad looks in Miller’s direction.

* * *

Soon they were back at Arkadia and Raven and Monty scrambled to get the people they’d brought with them to the Chancellor. Miller joined them, standing tall and holding his gun and focusing on his breathing. There’d been a block in his life before, but now there was a void. A few days of hope had ruined him.

His dad was in the Chancellor’s quarters when they arrived with news of Agro Station. David Miller looked in his son’s direction with questioning eyes, and with one subtle shake of his head he crossed the room to be by his side. David placed a heavy hand on Miller’s shoulder and squeezed once.

“I’m sorry, Nate,” he said quietly. Miller didn’t respond.

He was dismissed shortly after that while Abby and Kane and Monty’s mom and Miller’s dad all talked and discussed the best way to get the people from Agro Station to Arkadia. Miller headed straight for the bar. He needed a drink.

Gina was working, smiled at him as he sat down, but Miller couldn’t return it. “So Agro really made it?” she asked as she poured him something dark. They weren’t friends, not really, but she _was_ dating Bellamy.

“Yep.” He popped the P. Miller knocked back the drink and slid it back to her. “Another.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay, Miller?”

“Just pour me another drink,” he muttered.

Gina looked apprehensive but with one sharp stare she started reaching for the bottle again. “How’re you planning to pay for it?” she asked, pouring the drink.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Do you want me to get Bellamy?” she asked. Bellamy was still here? Miller shook his head, reaching out for the drink and knocking it back. He hadn’t really eaten today and it was late, it was dark. He could feel the liquor humming in his veins. “How about Monty?” she tried.

Miller nudged the cup back in her direction. “How about you pour me another drink and stop trying to make conversation?” he growled.

Gina took the cup and frowned at him. “You don’t have pay.”

“I work for the guard every goddamn day. I helped find Agro Station. Pour me another fucking drink, Gina, or I swear to God.” Her eyebrows arched curiously at his tone but there was something on her that showed she understood. Once you’re in pain you’re good at reading it on other’s faces. That was clear in her eyes. She poured him another drink, telling him it was the last, and he nodded.

Miller knocked the last drink back like the other two and shuddered as it traveled down his throat. It made him feel warm, but it made his stomach turn. Actually, he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that was making his stomach turn. He pushed the empty drink back to Gina and she took it and walked away but kept Miller in her eyesight. He sat at the counter and tried to focus on the little things around him. The sound of the piano someone was playing. The laughter of a distant couple. The sound of clinking glasses. None of it was enough to pull him from his thoughts.

* * *

Somehow Miller ended up in Monty’s tent.

His head was swimming. He wasn’t sure how his feet carried him there. All he knew was it was dark and the air was cold but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. His fingers were numb and the thoughts in his mind were tumbling around, colliding together like the waves of the ocean he would probably never see, jumbled and disheveled.

Monty stood when Miller pushed his way in. He’d been sitting at a table working on something and looked worried. “Where’ve you been?” Monty asked. “You disappeared earlier.” Miller had to use the wall of the tent to keep him steady on his feet – standing was harder than he’d predicted. “You went to the bar?” he asked.

Miller scanned the tent. “Your mom,” he said.

“She’s still with Abby and Kane.” Monty crossed to him quickly. “Here, come sit down,” he said. Monty wrinkled his nose when he got closer. “You _smell_ like liquor.” Monty guided Miller to a seat and everything felt heavy. Miller could feel the darkness outside crushing down on his shoulders. Monty didn’t seem to know what to say once Miller was sitting, and neither did Miller. He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, Nate,” Monty finally said quietly.

Miller shook his head. “Don’t be.”

“I shouldn’t have argued with you or said what I said.”

“Drop it, Monty.”

“I just need you know I’m sorry. I was—frustrated.”

Miller scoffed. “Sure.” Still he shook his head slightly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Monty said softly. “ _You_ matter to me, Nate.”

Miller lifted his head from his hands. “You don’t even know me,” he slurred. Monty frowned at him and Miller sat up a little straighter. “You said so yourself—that—that I don’t talk about my life. You don’t _know_ me, Monty.” Monty opened his mouth to protest but Miller just kept talking, his lips loosened by liquor and his chest aching where his heart had been ripped out. “When I was eleven years old they floated my mom,” he said. “Something little—bartering, or something. She knew other—other people needed more food than we did. And I wasn’t supposed to watch. She said her… her goodbyes, but my dad was a guard then—not Chief, not yet—but I knew the walkways because of him. And I got there just in time…” Miller trailed off. “Just in time to watch her get _ripped_ into space.”

“Nate,” Monty exhaled.

“And my dad—I know he loves me but fuck he was—he was never the same. He wanted me to be like him—be a guard. But guards were the reason my mom was dead, and I—I fucking hated guards. I blamed them for it—never wanted to be them. Be like him.” Miller was looking at the ceiling of Monty’s tent, unsure where the thoughts he’d kept shoved down to the deepest darkest parts of him were crawling out of. “And so I walked the other stations, looking for something else, trying to get away from Alpha, from what my dad thought would be best for me. I felt like I didn’t belong there, like it was some sort of accident I was in Alpha. Ended up Agro a lot, I loved how it smelled there. Not like earth, but close.”

“From the work rooms,” Monty supplied, and Miller nodded.

“Yeah. And that—that’s where Briar was. And he was the first person who told me I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to. That I could be whoever I _wanted_ to be, not be what was expected. And fuck, Monty, I _loved_ him.”

“Nate,” he tried again. “You don’t—”

“But I wanted to be like my mom, I guess. Rules were stupid—the rules were so fucking stupid on the Ark sometimes. So I started taking things. Little things. Then bigger things. I could get wherever I wanted because of my dad. Got into the Chancellor’s office, got caught. They threw me in the Sky Box. And Briar, he told me he still loved me, but I was a fucking idiot. I’d fucked it all up because—why? Because I hated guards? Because I hated what had happened to me?” Miller pressed his hands to his eyes again, trying to get rid of the images in his mind that danced before him. “Then they dropped us off on earth.”

Monty reached across the table for him but Miller pulled back. “You don’t have to do this,” Monty told him.

“Didn’t get to say goodbye,” he said. “Not to anyone. But—fuck, whatever. So I just stopped thinking about it.” He shook his head another time, everything bouncing around. “Stopped thinking about my mom, about Briar, about the Ark, about the disappointment to my dad that I was…” Miller trailed off and took a shaking breath. “Because when bad things happened, they stayed bad for me, Monty. They never got good again. I had to do shit down here I’d never wanted to do. I had to be the thing I hated to help keep us alive. Things never got better for me. So when Briar was gone I knew to just accept it. Because it wasn’t going to get better. But then you and Bellamy—you were both so _hopeful_ that I couldn’t help but hope too, and then… and then…”

“And then because you got your hopes up,” Monty filled in for him.

“And because of that it hurt so much _more_ …” Miller closed his eyes. He just wanted to forget it all. He wanted to forget all of the pain and the suffering and the little things. “And then there’s _you_ …”

“Me?”

“I don’t know… don’t know how I…” Miller wanted the world to stop spinning for one goddamn moment. “Felt so guilty for how I felt,” Miller murmured. “Thinking about you and not him. Was it cheating? Was it fair? And then he was dead anyway.” Miller licked his lips. They were too dry, so was his throat. “What kind of person does that make me?” Miller tried swallowing but it wasn’t helping. “That I’ve killed people with my bare hands?” he breathed. “That when I don’t know how to handle something I just _stop_ thinking about it? I just _stop…”_

Miller’s mind went fuzzy. The world around him blurred – maybe from alcohol, maybe from tears, he never knew – but it all went dark. And Miller let it take him.

* * *

When Miller woke up he was in Monty’s bed. He knew it was him because it smelled like him. Like burned wires and the river. His head was pounding and he blinked hard into the morning light. It took him a moment but he found a glass of water by the bed and he reached out, grateful it had been placed there.

“Morning.” Miller sat up and licked his lips, lowering the glass to find Monty sitting at the table. “How’s your head?”

With his hand not holding the glass Miller wiped his mouth. “Could be worse.” Monty set down whatever he was working on and stood before crossing the room to his bed. He sat on the edge and turned to look at Miller. “I’m sorry about last night,” he forced out.

Monty shook his head. “We’re all screwed up in the head.”

Miller didn’t want him to make excuses for his behavior. “ _Monty_.”

“We are,” Monty stopped him. “After all we’ve been through, how could we not be?” Miller took a deep breath and set the glass of water back down on the side table. Monty reached out and rested his hand on Miller’s knee. “If not thinking about anything is how you deal, then that’s how you deal, Nate. I can’t do that, but if it works for you then by all means.” Miller rested his head backwards against a pillow. His entire body felt like he’d been thrown through a grinding machine. It ached and it screamed and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. “But it’s about to get worse, you know. From here. Before it gets better again. And if bottling it all up is going to make you explode then I’m begging you, Nate, don’t bottle it up.”

“It’s all I know.”

Monty reached for Miller’s hand before lifting it, pressing his lips to his knuckles. “I want to help,” Monty murmured.

Miller’s throat felt thick again. “You do,” he murmured back. Monty scooted closer then, bending down and kissing Miller’s forehead. Miller’s eyes fell shut at the feeling of Monty’s warm mouth on his skin.

“I’m sorry,” Monty whispered.

“Me too,” Miller rasped. Monty dropped his forehead to Miller’s, then. The angle was awkward but Monty was close and Miller didn’t want to fall apart anymore. Miller looked into his eyes and felt steady. If only for a moment. “What now?” Miller asked.

Monty’s mouth pulled into a soft smile. “We just keep going.” His thumb brushed across Miller’s chin. “And if you can’t hope for the best, I can do it for the both of us.”

 _I don’t deserve it_ , Miller thought. But Monty looked optimistic. And Miller loved the feeling in his chest at the sight of it. And if that was what Monty wanted, that was what Miller would give him.

“Are you sure?” Miller asked.

Monty didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.” Monty stretched forward to kiss Miller’s forehead another time. “But I’ve already got one drunk to take care of and that’s draining enough,” Monty said.

Miller was surprised when he felt himself smile. “Understood,” he whispered. Monty smiled at him, real and bright and _hopeful_ , and Miller believed even if only for a moment he could be okay.

* * *

As expected, it wasn’t easy. Miller was struck by bouts of unnecessary anger and waves of unrelenting guilt. He snapped at people who didn’t deserve it, he hid himself away in his room, and he focused his attention on whatever Bellamy decided was important. And Monty was there, teasing and smiling despite the own demons in his head, reminding Miller that they were on earth, that they were alive, that they would make it.

And it took a bit of time, but finally Miller began to believe him.

He realized it one night week later, miles away from Arkadia, in the middle of a war that he wasn’t sure they were winning. A sudden smile came to his face and Monty noticed right away, arching a curious eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” Monty asked.

Miller shook his head, surprised by the thought himself. “I think you’re right,” he said. Monty’s other eyebrow joined the arch high on his forehead. “That we’re going to be okay.”

It took a second but soon Monty tipped his head back in a laugh. “Now?” he asked. Monty gestured outwards. They were in the middle of the thick woods, it was annoyingly cold, and they hadn’t eaten in a long time. “ _Now_ you think that we’re going to be okay?”

Miller nodded his head ever so slightly. “Yeah. I do.”

Monty threw his arms around him then, a laugh still pressed onto his face, and kissed Miller right on the mouth. “Finally,” Monty breathed. And then he kissed him again, and again, and again.

It was a feeling Miller never wanted to forget.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really love Nathan Miller. And I think I kind of relate with him a lot, so I wrote him in the same sense that I try to pretend like I don't have feelings when in reality I have a lot of them. I think Miller does too, just isn't really that great at it. I wanted to be compliant with S3 premiere and write Miller with his boyfriend, and this sort of exploded. I never intended it to be this long! I wanted to end on a hopeful note. Because we have nooo idea what kind of pain season 3 will bring us so I just hope that it'll be okay for my favorite boys. I hope you like it! xxx
> 
> //I just want to be clear that this, by no means, means I want this to actually happen! I want Miller's bf to be alive and they can be happy together (and maybe grow apart - and then we get Minty) because Miller/boy deserve happiness!


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